Save Me
by miarae
Summary: Eight years after being taken from Hogwarts by her mother, Hermione's past is thrown back in her face by someone very unlikely showing up on her doorstep. HermioneOliver
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Save Me

**Summary: **Oliver needs help. Who better to ask than the once smartest witch? Futurefic.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, just the plot and any characters that you don't recognise.

**A/N:** Is Oliver/Hermione a strange couple? Probably is...but I love Oliver! He's so cute!

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It was not that Hermione Granger needed saving. Oh no. She was quite capable of handling everything herself thank you very much. It didn't matter that her mother had forbidden her to _ever_ do magic again, and it also didn't matter that now she was a plain dentist like everyone in her family had been for centuries. She didn't care about the fact that she no longer saw any of her wizard friends, and that she was alone in life, without anyone to hold on to when she laid awake those many nights, that wasn't even important.

She was happy, or at least that's what she pretended to be. Nobody knew that when she was alone at night she practised spells, simple ones, scared to death that someday she would wake up as a muggle. Nobody saw how she was wasting away, her once bright and shiny eyes now dull and lifeless. They all thought she was happy being who she was. The people that hadn't known she was a witch in the first place thought that although she was strange she became more like her mother everyday. Her mother was happy that Hermione seemed to adjust so well to being a normal person again.

Sitting in the livingroom of her mother's house she once again wondered what life would have been like if her father had still been with them. If only he hadn't been murdered by wizards, maybe then she could have stayed who she was destined to be: a witch. A Hogwarts teacher perhaps. Friends with Harry and Ron and all those other people whose faces she had already started to forget. Lavender Brown, once one of her friends. Parvati and Padma Patil. Ginny Weasley.

Her eyes travelled to the wall, where all sorts of static pictures hung. Not even one of them was smiling and waving like a lunatic. All the pictures from her Hogwarts friends had been removed, and they were only remembered by a faded spot on the wallpaper. She bit her lip upon seeing a picture of her father. It had been taken mere days before his murder. Before everything changed and her mother, who had once been proud of her being a witch, now looked at her with discontent. Like it was her fault! She wanted her father back just as much her mother did!

But it was her fault. She couldn't deny that, even though she tried to reason it away, it was always there. If she had been a normal girl, her father would have lived. If she hadn't befriended Harry and Ron, the death-eaters would never have tried to hurt her. If she hadn't fought in the battle, exposing herself to them, making them see how strong she was, they wouldn't have killed her father to get to her.

Yet they had. And what they had foreseen had happened. Her mother had broken her wand, burnt all the magicbooks she could find, and had forbidden Hermione to ever see her freaky friends again. Hermione, who had been in sixth year, had been shipped off to a normal school, to graduate like a normal girl. Too hurt by everything that had been happening recently, she had, and had become a dentist like her mother had always wanted her to be.

At age 24, eight years after her fathers untimely death, Hermione was everything she didn't want to be. She was living at home with her mother who tried desperately to control her, even though she had been trying to become the perfect daughter. She didn't know anything about the wizarding world, not even if Voldemort had been defeated.

Little did she know, people in the wizarding world still talked about her. They didn't know what happened. They didn't need to. All they knew was that before Hermione had vanished she had been the most powerful witch in a long time. And they needed someone like that.

As the doorbell rung she got up slowly, not wanting to face reality for as long as she could. Sitting in her chair, staring at the fire, she could almost imagine being back at Hogwarts again. But she wasn't. She would never be. She would become a normal girl, with a normal job and hopefully normal kids because if she didn't she would always know her mother didn't quite love her as much as she would have done.

The doorbell rung again.

"Yeah I'm coming"

She mumbled something to herself that sounded like _why can't I ever get a nice day off without people annoying me all the time. Wish I could cast a silencing spell so I would be in peace and quiet_ and walked towards the door, determined to get rid of whoever was standing in front of the door as soon as possible.

"Hey Hermione"

**Review please!**

**A/N:** Okay I know it is extremely nasty to leave you with such a cliffhanger but I think you should be able to figure out who's standing in front of the door. Plus I apologize for this chapter being short and probably sucky, but I'm trying to get things started up. Next chapter will hopefully be better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Save Me

**Summary: **Oliver needs help. Who better to ask than the once smartest witch? Futurefic.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, just the plot and any characters that you don't recognise.

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Some days ago:

He rippled up the paper and tossed it in the garbagecan. Another one of those damned letters. When would they ever stop coming? Surely by now the people that were behind this would realise he couldn't be bought. He was someone who considered fair play to be the most important in Quidditch, even when he was just playing in school. They had made him captain cause of it, because playing fair meant more to him than winning. Not that they lost often though. His team had consisted out of very talented players. And him of course, though he would never call himself talented.

Still, he seemed to be. As soon as he'd finished Hogwarts he had been asked to join a local team by someone who had secretly been scouting all wizarding schools. Slowly but steadily he had worked himself up to the English National Quidditch Team. At age 29, he was a millionaire and still playing.

That was another thing he didn't understand. At first they had offered him money. Money for gods sake. What did he need money for? One morning he had found a letter in his mailbox, in which someone offered him 20.000 galleons to 'fix' the matches. He had burnt the letter, hurt by the thought that someone would consider him to participate in foul play.

Recently though their tactics had changed, from offering money to threatening to kill him if he didn't co-operate. At first he had paid no attention to them, but after his girlfriend found out and went berserk he had shown them to the Ministry of Magic, who had immediately taken steps to secure his protection.

Well that had worked perfectly hadn't it?

Looking down he silently cursed whoever had been trying to secure him. If they were so powerful, why hadn't they been there when someone Crucio'ed him? Why hadn't someone come when they smashed his knee, saying that if he didn't want to help them he would never play Quidditch again. Only after he'd been beaten black and blue, left alone to die in a corner, his bodyguards came.

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Present time:

She tried to steady herself by holding on to the doorway. Her eyes became full of compassion as she watched the wheelchair he was sitting in.

"What happened?"

"Don't look at me that way"

"I'm sorry"

She averted her eyes, wondering why he was here. Didn't he know about her? Didn't they all know?

"Can I come in? It's not exactly warm out here"

She looked at him again.

"Don't you know? I'm not a witch anymore. If my mother finds you here she'll kill me..."

**Review please!**

**A/N: **Sorry very short chapter but I wanted to put it up so you guys would have something to read!


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: Save Me

**Summary**: Oliver needs help. Who better to ask than the once smartest witch? Futurefic.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, just the plot and any characters that you don't recognise.

**A/N:** there's no excuse, I know, I haven't updated in forever. Thing is, I've been having trouble with my wrist (deterioration) and well basically it just sucks because I can't type for a long time. Plus I've been on the couch for about three months, something to do with my ankle. And no, I didn't have a laptop. Sigh. Well, that actually IS an excuse. Anyway I'm back now and today is all about the updates so please review!

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"You're what? Great...just great...now who will help me!"

"Help you? You were sent here so I could help you?"

Oliver nodded.

"Can I come in? It's a long story..."

Hermione sighed. If her mother would find out Oliver was a wizard –and by the look of his clothes she certainly would – she'd be grounded forever.

"Of course...but you'll need to wear Muggle clothing...if my mom finds you like this..."

Oliver nodded again, before waving his wand and making the doorstep disappear so he could wheel himself into the room.

"What happened?"

Hermione asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Blackmail. People wanted me to forge the games. I wouldn't. They smashed my knees..."

"Couldn't the healers at St. Mungo's heal it?"

Hermione walked towards her room, grabbing some clothes that had once belonged to her father and she couldn't let go off. She walked back into the livingroom and saw Oliver trying to pull his shirt over his head. Obviously he was in pain, because he winced and barely was able to suppress a moan. Hermione could see why. There was a big gash in his upper arm that had been clumsily bandaged. She stepped towards him, slowly pulling his shirt over the wound.

Damn, did Oliver Wood have a nice body. Quidditch sure was good exercise. She had always found him attractive, but seeing him without his shirt on, whoah. She blushed slightly, pulling her fathers' sweater over his head.

"No they couldn't"

Oliver finally answered after he had done a resizingspell on the clothing. He sat himself down on the couch and magically shrunk his wheelchair.

"Or rather...they wouldn't..."

He looked at Hermione.

"The point is, whoever bashed in my knees and crucio'ed me...it was just a warning. They sent me another letter after that, saying that I better cooperate and make someone else forge the games...or else..."

He swallowed.

"Or else they'll kill you"

Hermione simply stated. Oliver nodded once again.

"Dumbledore said I needed protection. Good protection. He knows about you. I mean, he knows you left Hogwarts and he assumed you were living as a Muggle. For both our sakes he said it was best if I went to you. People won't know where I am."

"Why can't you stay with other people? Like...Ron or Harry? The twins? They're all very good at magic...at least they were when I was still at Hogwarts..."

"Oh"

Hermione looked up at Olivers' soft gasp.

"What?"

"Harry is in St Mungo's now. Killing Voldemort made him go insane."

"And Ron and the twins? Ginny? Neville?"

Oliver shook his head.

"All dead. The battle was gigantic. Huge losses on both sides. We eventually won, though Harry's sanity went with Voldemort."

"So...I am the only one who can protect you?"

Hermione's voice trembled. It barely registered. Her friends. All dead.

"Yea"

**Review please!**

**A/N: **Sorry short chapter but my wrist hurts like hell!


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